


The Day Geralt of Rivia Finally Says I Love You

by QueenGremlin



Series: The Thing About Jaskier and Geralt is They're in Love and Incredibly Stupid [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Almost death, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Saves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Uses His Words, Hurt, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, geralt and jaskier got into another fight, geralt finally says i love you, vampire attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26376646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenGremlin/pseuds/QueenGremlin
Summary: “Shut. Up.”“Afraid that’s just not my specialty!”The vampire was in his face, clawed hand yanking his head back and exposing his neck. Her foul, rotten breath fanned over his skin. He waited. Waited for the bite, the sharp fangs to pierce his skin, and for the dizziness of blood loss to blur his vision. It never came. “He,” her voice grinded against his brain. “will watch. You die.”“Lovely.”OrGeralt and Jaskier get into another fight which results in Jaskier storming off into the woods so he can calm down, and he ends up getting attacked and kidnapped by a vampire. Oh! Geralt finally gets to say I Love You
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Thing About Jaskier and Geralt is They're in Love and Incredibly Stupid [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819198
Comments: 10
Kudos: 181





	The Day Geralt of Rivia Finally Says I Love You

The Day Geralt of Rivia Finally Said I Love You

The Thing About Jaskier and Geralt is They're in Love and Incredibly Stupid: Part 3

  
  


Geralt was unbelievable. Simply an unbelievable bastard of a man. Far too thick skulled for his own good. Jaskier wanted to scream at him, wanted to wake the entire forest, but he simply for Ciri’s sake he decided to walk away from the argument. They had been on the road for little less than a month since winter’s end, Ciri tagged along after practically begging all winter, and Geralt being the soft-hearted father he was- agreed under the condition that Yennefer tagged along for added protection. 

At first, it was going great. Jaskier enjoyed teaching Ciri lute, and even more so enjoyed helping her write plentiful songs. He enjoyed going to the city and finally having somebody to shop with and having them at least tolerate it more than Geralt. It was nice spending the spring days surrounded by a field of flowers, having Ciri stumbling over notes, while Geralt grunted over his practices, and Yennefer idly reading a book or sunbathing. 

Then it started to become more difficult. Jaskier watched as Geralt gravitated toward Yennefer, gravitated to making a family with her and Ciri, and while Jaskier didn’t resent Ciri for that. It hurt him. Made him want to grow distant. He couldn’t blame him, but it made the days go longer and the nights feel colder. Usually their lover’s quarrels would resolve rather quickly, following in gorgeously filthy make up sex, and then a hushed ‘I love you’ from Jaskier as they fell asleep. 

It was different now. They had walked all day with very few breaks, and it had been the hottest of the season. It was often that Jaskier complained, sure, but only to truly remind the witcher that he didn’t have a stamina like the others. He often needed breaks to rest- especially on hot days. Geralt- sweaty and agitated took it out completely on Jaskier. Yelled at him again. Wasn’t quite as bad- wasn’t quite as horrible. Still, he yelled hurtful words in front of Yen and Ciri too. Jaskier walked away. When Geralt tried to follow, Jaskier only scalded him and told him not to. 

He walked around in the woods, skin flushed with anger, and the warm night air offering no help to cooling his temper. His eyes ached to release tears, but he was too stubborn to cry over Geralt yelling at him. “Fuck,” he whispered. Careful not to get too loud- he was far enough from camp that Geralt couldn’t see him but he could still hear him. Jaskier kicked at a small stone, his thoughts still toxic and angry, and he sighed and sat down on a fallen tree. “Stupid Geralt. He’s such a bastard for making me love him so much. He’s-”

A branch cracked which made Jaskier become alert. Of course, it was probably just Geralt coming to yell at him some more. “Geralt,” Jaskier huffed. “I’m not re-” He was looking at trees, then a flash of flowing black garb out of the peripheral of his eye, and then he slumped to the forest floor. 

^ 

Geralt had heard everything, he ran as soon as Jaskier had begun talking to himself as if someone else was there- as if Geralt were there, but he didn’t make it in time. He smelled, tried to track the vampire that stole his partner away, and tried to keep the smell of Jaskier’s blood from fogging his mind. He lost the track, different smells flooding his nose, and his- emotion clouding any rational decision. 

“What is it?” Yennefer asked in a hushed whisper as Geralt came into ear shot of the camp. He sighed and fell to his knees beside the fire. “Where’s Jaskier?”

“Vampire,” Geralt was already back on his feet rolling his saddle bag. “There’s a town not far from here.”

“Calm down,” Yennefer touched his arm. Her voice still hushed. “You’re frazzled. Why?”

“It has Jaskier.”

“Many things have had Jaskier. Many monsters. What’s different now? Hm?”

Geralt paused. His bedroll wound tightly into a coil, and his nails biting at the fabric of it. He wanted to scream. To rip the vampire from limb to limb and wanted to burn it until there was only ash left of it. It was different, he took a deep breath, and chewed on Yennefer’s words. She was right. Jaskier had been captured before, and Geralt had always been able to save him. It was different then, Geralt was confused then, and Jaskier was just a friend then. 

It was different now. He and Jaskier had laid together in bed, Jaskier had confessed to him that he loved him, and Geralt had shown him his love the best he could. It was different this time. The vampire didn’t take Jaskier the annoying bard- even friend; no, the vampire took Jaskier the man he loved. He hadn’t told him though. Jaskier needed to know that Geralt indeed loved him more than the air he breathed. 

“Love him,” Geralt said as if the words were pulled out of him along with a breath of air. Knocked from his lungs and pulled from his stomach. Out loud. Dangerously vulnerable. Valuable secret spilled into the spring night. 

Yennefer made noise, something between a scoff and a grunt. “I’m still not seeing how that’s any different than before? You’ve loved him longer than just tonight, and before the winter. You loved him even when you were with me. You know that. I know that. He knows that.” Geralt sighed and went to gather Roach. “Calm down,” Yennefer said. She put her hands on Geralt’s shoulders. “You’ll kill him if you don’t focus.” 

“Dad?” 

They both turned at the sound of Ciri. Her hair was cascading around her, a fist rubbing at her eye, and a firm pout on her lips. Geralt sighed and went to her kneeling in front of her. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Where’s Jask?” She looked toward the empty tent. “Are you both still fighting?”

“No,” Geralt grunted. He looked back at Yennefer hoping she’d jump in for explanation. Ciri knew of monsters, Geralt never hid that from her, and obviously, if she was going to survive as a witcher she’d have to get used to situations like this. Jaskier was dear to her, a third parent, and even a second father. The two grew impossibly close during the winter, and Geralt always felt impossibly warm watching the two play and create. 

“Tell her,” Yennefer said. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt took a slow breath. “A vampire took him. I’m going to find him, don’t worry. You and Yen will go to the nearest town, and once I get Jaskier back we will meet you there.” 

“We should go now,” Yennefer said. Ciri seemed more alert now, her eyes brighter, and a worried crease beginning between her eyebrows. Geralt was awkward when it came to showing most affection, but he still tries when Ciri needs it. He gently placed his thumb between her eyebrows, smoothing out the crease there, and making her look at him in a weird sort of way.

“I’ll get him back,” Geralt said firmly. “Don’t worry.” 

Ciri nodded and put on a brave face. Quickly she moved around the camp helping them pack. Geralt tried to keep his breaths calm and tried to focus on making a plan. He knew if he planned on rescuing Jaskier then he had to put everything else aside, and he had to have a clear head. Vampires were tricky enough with a clean and sober head. Still, the words he yelled at Jaskier still rang clear in his head like church bells on a Sunday morning. He was going to get Jaskier back. He was going to tell him he loved him, out loud, and crystal clear. He was going to make things right. 

  
  


^

Jaskier’s head was throbbing. When he opened his eyes and blinked away the blur of sleep, he looked around him. He was in a room, a big room, large sheets covered any furniture insight, and it was dingy with the smell of musk and dust that made his nose crinkle. He was bound to a chair, rope wrapping around his chest and arms. Rope wrapped around his wrists that were behind him uncomfortable around the back of the chair. His ankles were also bound with the same rope. In other words, he was fucked and not in a good way. 

“Hello?” He called. Probably a silly thing to do considering he was in a vulnerable position and somebody had to be in the room with him. “Hello?” he tried again. There was a sound of fabric blowing in the wind and it caused him to jerk his head toward the sound. “I must warn you. You have taken the wrong man! I’m very, very close to the witcher!”

“I’m counting on it,” A voice hissed almost like it was right behind Jaskier. He tried to turn around more but fell over bringing the chair with him. “Careful.” It was like the voice was floating around the room. It was disembodied, eerie, and it made goosebumps rise on his skin.

Jaskier tried to look around while on the floor, but he couldn’t move around much. The smell then filtered through his nose, dead, rotting, and bloody. He wanted to gag, wanted to cry out for his witcher. “Who are you?” Jaskier snarled. “What do you want the witcher for?” 

A whooshing noise and he was upright again. He shuttered. “Killed,” the voice told him. This time it was clear. In his head. Like a passing thought. “My love.”

“It’s his job,” Jaskier stated. His voice trembled, his heart hammered, and he knew his hands were shaking in the ropes. 

“I,” the voice whispered in his head. “kill,” it continued. “his love.” 

^

Geralt decided to escort Yennefer and Ciri to the nearby town, clearly, the woods were too dangerous to be traveling in alone, and he knew Yennefer would just portal them. Still, he wanted to be sure they were okay and settled before he went hunting for Jaskier. 

Luckily, once in the town, the inn was easy to get into. It was there Geralt saw posters for missing people- all male. “Geralt?” Yennefer was looking at the missing posters too, a look of realization over her face, and Geralt did everything in him to not growl and storm out of the inn. 

“I see.”

“They all look like-”

“I know.”

Geralt felt his gut as it twitched into knots, and his usually slow beating heart pick up in pace. He needed to find Jaskier before whatever type of vampire killed him. That was just it. He needed to know the type. After making sure Yennefer and Ciri had a comfortable room, he went into the town to try to find out what he was dealing with. 

Surprisingly, Geralt was met with corporative townspeople. “What do you know of the missing?” He asked the barmaid. She sighed. Paused wiping down the bar to look at Geralt, and then she nodded toward the empty seat next to him. 

“Not much,” She said. “There’s a monster, it looks like a woman, but when it speaks it’s- it’s not our tongue. Some say they see it stalking around in the woods, that’s where all the young men went missing. Some said that they’ve seen it just outside the town.”

“What does it look like?”

“Grayish skin, sharp teeth, sometimes blood-splattered, sharp claws. We hear it’s song after it takes someone.”

Geralt sucked in a breath and schooled his face as he nodded. The woman sighed again and looked toward the door. “I saw it, but it didn’t look like that.” She sighed. “My brother and I were picking blackberries, we split up, and when I met up with him, I saw him talking to a woman- she looked normal. Dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and a pleasant smile. When my brother got close enough, she shifted? She became that monster.”

“Bruxa,” Geralt stated. “I’ll hunt it.”

“I can’t pay- nobody can. Business has been slow-”

“No, I will do it without charge.”

The woman looked as if she couldn’t believe a witcher would hunt a monster for no charge. Geralt knew this was personal. He knew that a Bruxa had his bard. He was pressed for time. He had to find Jaskier, had to tell him that he loved him, and had to use his words so Jaskier knew how much. 

^

Jaskier shifted in his ropes. He stared at the vampire before him, her skin seeming to only stretch over her bones, angled upon more angles, each rib visible and countable, and dark hair falling into her face. “Will you kill him?” Jaskier asked. “After you kill me of course.”

“No. He will,” Her voice bounced around his head. “live alone.” 

Jaskier nodded. “If you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t love me? What if you’re wrong about who his love is?” Jaskier knew that it was a tough chance to trick the vampire, but he had to try. Vampires- especially her type -were hard to deal with. Geralt had Ciri now. Maybe, just maybe, if Jaskier could get her to kill him and leave Geralt would be safe. He’d mourn Jaskier, yes, but he’d get over it- he would be alive. 

“Not. Wrong.” 

Jaskier blew out a breath of disbelief. “Pretty confident if you ask me.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Afraid that’s just not my specialty!”

The vampire was in his face, clawed hand yanking his head back and exposing his neck. Her foul, rotten breath fanned over his skin. He waited. Waited for the bite, the sharp fangs to pierce his skin, and for the dizziness of blood loss to blur his vision. It never came. “He,” her voice ground against his brain. “will watch. You die.”

“Lovely.” 

Suddenly Jaskier was alone, the vampire in a dark corner, and he felt a chill crawl up his spine causing him to shiver. It wasn’t long after he heard the commotion, heavy footsteps leading to his room, and he prayed Geralt would just leave. He didn’t feel the vampire’s claws pierce his skin or the sting that settled uncomfortably where the claws dug into him. His neck popped uncomfortably as his head was jerked to the side. His neck was exposed, teeth grazing the top layer of his skin, and then sharp pain that clouded his entire brain. 

His entire body tensed, all of his senses were lost, and pain became the only thing he could feel. His legs and arms wanted to thrash, convulsing within the rope’s tight hold, and all of his senses being suddenly drawn to his neck. He could only whimper, because any screams died on his tongue, and his mouth agape in shock and pain. Blue eyes wide and teary. He could still see. It was like he was staring down a tunnel, only in front of him was light- blurry images -and surrounding that light was darkness. His blinks were slower, he knew he was dying, and he wanted to cry out for Geralt. 

Then something odd happened. As his body began to succumb to the darkness, his thoughts scattered, and his vision nearly gone. He thought about all the things he wanted to do before he died. He wanted to kiss Geralt one last time, wanted to buy Ciri her own lute, wanted to finally best Yennefer in a round of banter, wanted Geralt to lay him down and make love to him just one last time, wanted to sing in front of people once more, wanted to tell Geralt, Ciri, and hell even Yen how much he dearly cared for them. 

He had to stay alive, he decided rather stubbornly, and he forced his eyes to stay open. Mumbled to himself about his last wishes while the vampire sucked on his neck draining him of blood. The door swung open to reveal a very angry looking Witcher. Jaskier was delirious from blood loss, not quite sure if what he was seeing was real, but still, he laughed as if he were staring at a jester. “You’re so fucked!” He laughed. 

Was time moving slowly? The witcher surely hadn’t always moved that slowly. He felt the vampire being ripped off his neck- which should be impossible considering Geralt was still near the door. He blinked. Suddenly Geralt was in front of him. “Vampire,” He gurgled. His mouth tasted like iron. Was he bleeding? Geralt's hands were on his face, he could feel them, but why was he focused on Jaskier? There was a vampire to deal with. “Watch out,” He slurred. Geralt was shhing him. Rude. Geralt was undoing the ropes. None of it made sense. Was Geralt worried? “bleeding?”

“Keep talking,” Geralt said. He was talking. Wasn’t he? “Jask?” 

He must’ve closed his eyes. Was he being carried? He tried to move but he couldn’t. That’s right. Ropes. He was still tied up. “Rope.”

“C’mon Jask, love. Stay with me.” 

Absolutely absurd to assume he’d leave. He was awfully tired. He shivered. Was he cold? He shouldn’t be, damn near hotter than hell outside. He was oh so tired. A short nap shouldn’t hurt. Just a short cat nap might as well just be a blink, and Geralt wouldn’t notice. He shouldn’t mind. No harm in just sleeping. No harm at all. 

^

Geralt had tracked the scent he caught in the woods from when Jaskier was taken to a large abandoned estate. He followed the smell of rotting flesh and blood all the way up the spiral staircase, it was when he got to the top, he heard the whimpers coming from Jaskier. He downed a potion, grabbed his silver sword that was doused in vampire oil, and readied it as he stepped back and kicked the door open. 

It crashed against the wall alerting the thing biting into Jaskier’s neck. He didn’t waste any time lunging into action, faintly hearing Jaskier slur out something with a giggle, but he was clearly missing too much blood to be coherent. Geralt yanked the vampire off Jaskier’s neck in far too much haste and ignored Jaskier’s insane mumblings. The vampire was quick, but with Jaskier bleeding, she was distracted. Hunger fueling her only desire, eyes glowing with intent, and her sole priority was to finish her meal. 

They were circling around Jaskier. Geralt with his sword drawn, and the bruxa baring her teeth with her claws flexing at her side. “Witcher.” Her voice echoed inside Geralt’s head. “Here to watch,” Geralt was only slightly shocked to find her speech was broken and strained even in his head. She was different from the other bruxa he has fought. She was almost unhealthy. “your lover die?” 

“I won’t let that happen,” Geralt growled. He’d be damned if he let Jaskier die. 

She lunged, soaring through the air with her claws outstretched, and she let out a horrid shriek as she fell toward Geralt. Claws snagged his chest and caught Geralt off guard, but only slightly. She looked at him, her dead eyes almost sad, and she snarled spit coating Geralt’s face. “For,” She said in a ragged, unused voice. “My love.” 

Geralt thrust his sword forward. It sank and burned the vampire and he watched as her eyes widened and mouth went slack. “Join him,” Geralt said and pushed her off his sword. She turned to ash before him, and he sighed as he rushed back to Jaskier taking him in. His wound was large, most likely would leave a scar, and if he didn’t get him to Yen or a healer soon then he’d die. He took his hand and placed them over Jaskier’s pale cheeks. Jaskier slurred out a “Vampire.” Geralt only shhhed him and began untying the ropes around him. Jaskier continued to babble incoherently and Geralt tried to keep his emotions in check. He was a witcher. This was no different. “Rope,” Jaskier coughed. This time blood spilled over his lips. Geralt swallowed quickly undoing the last knot. 

“C’mon Jask, love, stay with me.” 

He scooped Jaskier up in his arms, ignoring the way his chest felt full, and how it was harder to breathe. He blamed the gashes on his skin for why he was hurting so much, and he whispered to Jaskier in soft grunts. “Stay with me, sweetheart,” Jaskier mumbled again as his eyes fell closed, and Geralt jostled him a little. Jaskier would open his eyes, but then they’d fall closed. “Don’t leave me,” Geralt growled. “Dandelion you promised!” 

Geralt didn’t like it. Didn’t like his bard not babbling about song lyrics he could create from the situation, didn’t like how pale he looked, and didn’t like that he couldn’t find comfort in his blue eyes. He reached the town quickly, people gasping at the sight of Jaskier limp in Geralt’s arms, and a little frightened at the look of a feral witcher. “Yen!” He shouted once he was close enough to the tavern. “Yennefer!” 

Yennefer rushed out holding the door as Geralt rushed in. “Gods!” Yennefer gasped at the sight of Jaskier. 

“Fix him.” Usually Geralt’s voice was monotone, if around family or friends there might have been some emotion- hint of content or amusement -but never around strangers to see him emotional. Not usually. They had an ideal for a witcher. Emotionless. It was easier that way. Sure, people knew he had feelings because he frequented brothels, obviously felt something for the violet-eyed sorceress, not to mention that bard, and he adopted a daughter quite willingly. 

People were staring at him- no not him but at the scene before them. Geralt still had Jaskier held tightly in his arms still bleeding, and Geralt’s voice came out tight and croaky as if he were trying to not cry. Yennefer examined the bite on Jaskier’s neck. “Yen,” Geralt said softly. His golden eyes full of worry and heartache, golden godsdamned nearly glimmering with the mere threat of tears. “Please fix him.”

Yennefer took a deep breath. “Let’s take him to the room.”

^

Jaskier was in pain. His neck ached- no his entire body ached. Still, he had an overwhelming thirst. The type of thirst that made him feel as if he were in a far-off desert, and he hadn’t had a sip of water in days. He felt like he swallowed sand. When his eyes opened he found the room to be far too bright so he winced and groaned as he tried to sit up. “Jask?!” A voice that was all too familiar, gravel, but it held emotion in it this time. Relief? It had to be of relief. “Hey, hey,” Geralt whispered again as a large hand gently pushed on his chest to make him lay down. “Just rest.”

“B-bright,” Jaskier groaned. His throat hurt and felt too dry. He even sounded hoarse. Geralt was moving around the bed, closing the curtains and turning the lanterns down. 

“Better?” He asked. Jaskier nodded then winced. “Here,” Geralt was gingerly helping Jaskier sit up, Geralt practically lifting him like a doll and resting him against the headboard. Geralt then was presenting a mug of water gently helping Jaskier drink some. 

Jaskier greedily drank the water and ignored the dribbles down his chin. Then he grinned at Geralt rather sheepishly as he wiped his mouth. “Thank you, love.” Geralt sat down in the chair that was next to the bed, clearly, he had dragged it closer to the bed, and Jaskier wanted to laugh at the action. He could have just laid in bed with Jaskier. “How long was I out.”

“Few days,” Geralt murmured. 

“Have you slept?” Jaskier asked as he took Geralt’s hand into his own. His calloused fingers tracing the calloused lines in his partner’s palm. 

“Meditated.” 

“That’s not sleeping, sweetheart.”

Geralt only shrugged, focusing on Jaskier’s hands, then bringing them to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles, and Jaskier didn’t bother to try to hide the smile. He let the butterflies flutter in his stomach, and the look he gave Geralt was as soft as a feather stuffed pillow. “Must’ve been bad,” He hummed. Geralt looked at him. Yellow eyes like a worried pup and Jaskier went impossibly softer. “I only remember waking up bound to a chair, and I remember the vampire so I assume she bit me.”

Geralt nodded still painfully quiet, brushing his lips against Jaskier’s wrist feeling the Jaskier’s pulse under his skin, and closed his eyes feeling the thrum of life course through his bard’s body. Jaskier was alive after a seriously close call. “Talk to me, my love.”

“I,” Geralt forced out as he let Jaskier’s hands go. He sat back in his chair and scrubbed over his face and pulled his hair back out of his face. Jaskier only watched him with tired eyes, and his entire life force reaching out to comfort his obviously distressed white wolf. “I thought you died.” Geralt said. “The last thing you would’ve known was hurt and our fight.” 

Jaskier was already shaking his head reaching out for his witcher. Geralt came to him like a moth to a flame, and Jaskier gently cupped Geralt’s face once he was in reach to do so. Geralt leaned into the touch and affection. “You wouldn’t have heard-”

Geralt’s throat felt like it was swelling. “Wouldn’t have known.”

“My dearest,” Jaskier cooed. “I do know. I know your heart and your intent. I know that you love me even if the words die on your tongue or make your throat swell shut. I know and I will always know.” Jaskier looked at Geralt with honesty and brushed his thumb along Geralt’s cheek. “If I die before my time, know that loving you and being loved by you has been the greatest adventure of my life, and I am blessed by whatever gods exist for getting to experience it.”

Geralt felt all the air leave his lungs. It was like Jaskier had reached into his chest cavity and took a hold of his heart and was just squeezing it until all the feeling was drained out of it. Geralt leaned closer, pushing his lips against Jaskier’s lips, his hand gently resting on Jaskier’s chest, and then rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “I love you, Dandelion.” It was like a weight lifted off his chest, his heartfelt full, and it nearly overwhelmed him. 

Jaskier cupped both of Geralt’s cheeks and pulled him into a more passionate kiss. Kissing him with as much passion he could muster in his tired state. Geralt was an action type of guy, and Jaskier knew that he could tell the stubborn witcher how loved he was until he was blue in the face. Geralt wouldn’t understand. Not truly. Physical affection showed Geralt, it let him know how much he was loved, and that was what Jaskier was trying to say in his kiss. Just to really drill it in he pulled away, his forehead still pressed against Geralt’s, and his eyes cornflower blue staring at a sunrise yellow. “I love you,” Jaskier mumbled. “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou.” 

Geralt smiles. A genuine and full smile as he presses a rather gentle kiss to Jaskier’s nose. Jaskier shifted around the bed, groaning and wincing as he made room on the bed for Geralt, and then offered a shy smile motioning for Geralt to lay down with him. Geralt laid down; opening his arm to allow Jaskier to snuggle close to him. “Where is Ciri?” Jaskier asked. “Safe?”

“She’s safe,” Geralt hummed. “They’re down in the tavern. Probably will be up a little later with dinner for us.”

Jaskier hummed and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s bicep. The air became lighter around them, and Jaskier felt like he was flying with a new wave of love. He pressed lazy kisses anywhere he could reach without a lot of motion, and Geralt felt loved for the first time in his life he felt truly loved. He always felt loved by Jaskier every day, but right at that moment he felt even more loved. “What about our fight?” Geralt asked softly as his hand lazily rubbed Jaskier’s arm and shoulder. 

“Couples fight,” Jaskier shrugged. “it was bound to happen especially with all the walking and the heat.” Geralt hummed. “Besides you can apologize to me later.”

Geralt laughed. It was a lovely sound that Jaskier thought he’d like to turn into a song. “I think you should apologize to me!”

Jaskier scoffed. 

“We’ll apologize to each other. Especially with that witcher stamina of yours.” Geralt huffed out a laugh, he could feel Jaskier's grin against his skin. At that moment Geralt felt like he could fly, it was ridiculous that love of all things could make him feel light enough to fly, and yet he found himself that he didn’t want to change that. He wanted to love Jaskier for as long as his witcher's life would let him. As long as Jaskier would let him he would love him with every breath he took, and if he found himself breathless his dying thought would be of Jaskier and his songs. 

**Author's Note:**

> HI! Hope you all enjoyed the latest installment of these idiots in love.
> 
> I'd like to take a moment and express some thanks to all of you who have left so many lovely comments on this series! It means the world to me! Honest. I have plenty of more ideas to come with this series, but also keep a lookout for some other Jaskier and Geralt idiots in love goodness! 
> 
> (I've got a very interesting creature!Jaskier one coming out hopefully this weekend!) 
> 
> Also, recently wrote a very filthy fic for my dear friend earlier this month if you'd like to check that one out. It's called "Thunder and Lightning Kind of Love" It's also GeraltxJaskier. Like I said it is FILTHY. Pure filth. 
> 
> Have a lovely day!


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